


Corporate Courting

by Laurasauras



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anal Sex, Breast Fucking, Crocker Corp, Cunnilingus, F/M, Hate Sex, Lingerie, Manipulation, Multi, Oral Sex, Pegging, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2020-07-28 08:31:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20061064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurasauras/pseuds/Laurasauras
Summary: Karkat's duties as assistant to eccentric genius director Dave Strider are wild and varied. Protecting him from insistent corporate suitors is a new one.





	1. Chapter 1

Karkat can probably retire if he wants. He thinks this every morning, because his idiotic dickprince of a boss really challenges his willingness to continue working even for the frankly ridiculous paycheck he gives him. But Strider pays so much because he knows he couldn’t survive without Karkat. Literally any other assistant would stab their letter opener up his nostril on the way to hand in their resignation.

Karkat doesn’t care about the money. He doesn’t even care about the recognition, and Dave heaps that on him; he’s been the first person mentioned in three award acceptance speeches, much to his sister’s ire. He likes his job because he’s fucking good at it. Even if someone else could tolerate Dave or the hours, no one would be able to do _this_.

_Nachos. Uhhh, why’d I say that?_

‘I don’t fucking know,’ Karkat grumbles.

_I need … to figure out how they crumble, you know?_

The voicemail cuts out. Karkat continues to swear under his breath as the machine informs him he has five more messages. He places an order for a variety of different kinds of nachos while the machine does its thing.

_Hey, ‘Kat. Nope, false alarm, I’m goin’ back to sleep._

‘I fucking hate you and the cardboard box your mother tossed you out in.’

‘That’s really not cool to say about a foundling,’ Dave says, making Karkat jump in alarm. Stupid, psycho ninja boss.

‘No, it’d be “not cool” if I said that you never had a mother to begin with, you fucktabulous shit monkey, because obviously the only way a _shit_ like you could ever be spawned is through some sick scientific experiment for the express purpose of torturing me with your freaky ninja sneaking up bullshit!’ Karkat glares at Dave. ‘The elevator is in front of me! My desk faces the elevator! Because I do not like it when my jerkshit of a boss sneaks up on me!’

Dave smiles, like he always does, and Karkat lets the tiny voice inside his head that worries that this time he’ll be fired for his big mouth shut up. There isn’t a Hollywood photographer out there who wouldn’t give Karkat a small fortune to make Dave smile like this while they had their camera out, genuine, with his teeth and everything. 

‘You’re too absorbed in your work, pumpkin. A herd of majestic stallions coulda snuck up on you. Whatcha doin’?’

Karkat doesn’t stop glaring at Dave as he unplugs his headphones from the answering machine and Dave’s half-asleep voice from 3 in the morning fills the room.

_My animators are too good. Tell them they need to be able to fake shittyness or they’re fired. Woah, no, we can’t fire them. Tell them either to fake shittyness or we’ll swap them with the sound techs! Fuck, I’m a genius._

‘Yeah, that makes sense to me,’ Dave says.

Karkat holds up his finger. He scribbles a note onto a post it so he doesn’t forget while the machine clicks it’s way to the next recording.

_Barbie dolls … are weird. There’s … more to them than people think. Who …?_

Dave’s voice fades out until they’re listening to the sound of him snoring.

‘I now have to listen to you _sleep_ for however long it is until you wake back up and either finish your thought on Barbie dolls or you hang up the fucking phone.’

‘Aw, ‘Kat, you don’t have to do that …’

‘Yes! Yes I do! That’s literally my job! I do it every fucking morning! And if I didn’t! We’d miss out on such prize nuggets as “add more blue” and every single brainrotted critic thought that your use of colour in _Hella ArmaJeffon and Sweet Bro is Also There_ was the best since _The Shining_ so shut the fuck up and get back in your office.’

‘I love you,’ Dave says, quietly sing-song, as if that makes everything okay as he backs back into his office.

‘You should,’ Karkat grumbles.

He plugs his headphones back in and resigns himself to listening to his boss sleep while he catches up on the impossible amount of emails he’s received while every reasonable person on the planet should have been asleep. His inbox is full of workaholics and Australians and he’s not sure which are worse.

Past Dave is just making waking up noises in his ear when the elevator door dings and his stupid sister walks into Karkat’s office. He holds up his finger to stop her from opening her perfumey trap while he listens to hear if Dave has anything useful to say. It’s a double win, he can stop listening to the answering machine (nearly, one more recording after this) and he gets to pull this kind of shit on Lalonde. 

Dave doesn’t say anything at all, but Karkat notes that down just to annoy Rose before pressing pause on the machine and taking his headphones off.

‘You’re not going in there,’ Karkat says.

‘Karkat. Love of my life. We do this every week. Let me in my brother’s office.’

‘Hey, Lalonde, look at what I have here. Except don’t, it’s confidential. It’s Dave’s schedule. And look what’s in there until 9am every single day! Don’t fucking look, you nosy tramp, I just said it’s confidential! That’s right, no visitors until 9am. That’s the rule. And it’s currently 8:50, isn’t it?’

‘I brought you coffee,’ Rose wheedles. 

‘I don’t give a shit,’ Karkat says, taking the coffee gratefully. It’d be some kind of miracle if all Dave’s visitors could have the same taste in coffee place as Rose _and_ remember to bring him one. That would make his life so much better.

‘Karkat, it’s ten minutes. I’m his sister. I’m sure Dave said after last time that he was going to tell you to make me an exception.’

‘I’m sure he said that too! To you. Because then he can still pretend to be the innocent and caring brother and I can be the bad guy and he doesn’t have to be disturbed until 9am like he clearly still wants!’

Rose and Karkat glare at each other, Karkat with his whole face, Rose with the slightest divot in her eyebrows.

Karkat takes a sip of his coffee. He really does like it when Rose visits. She always remembers to get him coffee how he likes it, which is more than he can say for Dave. 

Rose sits on the edge of Karkat’s desk, even though there’s three chairs in his reception and examines her nails while they both wait for the required minutes to tick down to let her into Dave’s office.

When Karkat’s watch beeps on the hour, Rose doesn’t stand up. She knows the procedure by now (so why doesn’t she come when she knows she’ll be allowed in!? She doesn’t have a day job!) and watches as Karkat lifts the phone to get Dave.

‘Your sister is here, take her out of my office,’ Karkat says.

‘_Yes, Rose time. Did she bring coffee?_’

‘Yes.’

‘_Fuck yes. Send her in, dude, what are you waiting for?_’

Karkat stands and opens the door for Rose. He glares at her as she hops off his desk, smooths her skirt and slowly sashays her way into Dave’s office. 

‘You should fire Karkat,’ she says, before Karkat has the opportunity to close the door.

‘I think I would literally die without him,’ Dave replies.

Karkat doesn’t let himself smile, even after the door is shut and he’s back behind his desk. There’s cameras in his office after all, and he doesn’t need the security guys asking him if he’s having a stroke or something. 

Half an hour later, he’s trying to figure out if Dave actually wants a peacock in his office or if he can organise him a trip to a farm or something instead, when the elevator doors open again and a woman Karkat doesn’t know steps out.

She walks up to his desk and holds a small, pale hand out. Karkat stares at it rather than taking it. 

‘Jane Crocker,’ she says. ‘I’m here to see Dave Strider.’

‘You don’t have an appointment,’ Karkat says. 

The woman puts her hand down and behind her back. Karkat doesn’t let his gaze drop to where her prominent breasts are now staring at him. These Hollywood types and their technically professional dresses that _cling_. It’s even more disarming when it’s on a woman who actually has curves.

‘I know. You wouldn’t give me one,’ she says. ‘May I sit?’

Karkat gestures to the seats in front of his desk and closes his date book so she can’t read it upside down. Not that anyone can read his handwriting.

‘I’m Jane Crocker,’ she repeats. ‘CEO of _the_ Crocker corporation. As in Betty Crocker. I can’t wait six months to see a director, no matter how popular he is at the moment.’

Before Karkat can reply, Rose opens Dave’s door and steps out. She freezes, staring at Crocker for several seconds, before she closes the door firmly behind her and finds her usual Mona Lisa smile.

‘Jane, it’s been a while,’ she says.

‘Not that long,’ Jane replies, standing again.

‘Must have been wishful thinking,’ Rose says. 

The women hug, Rose even more stiff than she usually is when having to touch people who aren’t Dave, and then Rose steps away so she’s on Karkat’s side of the desk. Karkat refrains from telling her off for it. Something about this seems unusual.

‘I have to run, Karkat,’ Rose says, taking his hand and pulling him to his feet. ‘But it was lovely seeing you again.’ 

She pulls him into an excessively uncomfortable hug, her head on the side away from Crocker, and whispers into his ear, ‘Do not let her near my brother.’ She smiles tightly when she releases him and then walks quickly to the elevator. 

Karkat sits back down, doing his best not to let his confusion show. 

‘Does that mean Mr Strider is free now?’ Crocker asks. ‘Could I pop my head in? I won’t be more than a few minutes.’

Karkat moves to block the door before she can even take a step. She raises her eyebrow at him, as if he’s over-reacting.

‘You don’t have an appointment,’ he repeats. ‘Strider’s literally just finished filming his most recent movie, which means he’s … elbow deep in post. If you’ve ever seen one of his “movies”, then you know that there’s a lot that goes into post. He’s fucking busy. And it wouldn’t matter if you were President Obama himself, no one is getting through this door without my say so.’

Jane looks genuinely sad. Karkat is unmoved.

‘Is there really nothing I can do to persuade you to give me five minutes?’ she asks.

‘Look, lady, you go through the correct channels or you don’t go at all.’

‘You _are_ the correct channel,’ Jane reminds him.

‘I have a phone!’ Karkat cries. Oh no, his inside voice appears to have run away from him again. ‘I have email! What I do _not_ have, is the time required to act as a fucking doorman! I’ve never had training in that before!’

Jane smiles and steps closer to him. Her lips are red and plump as hell, obviously designed to make him think all kinds of things that are inappropriate before it’s even 10 in the morning. 

‘It’s very easy,’ she purrs. ‘You just open the door for me.’

‘Take another step and I’ll call for security, I swear to fucking God,’ Karkat says. ‘You can fuck right off, Crocker. No one here cares if you have a perfect ass, you can try that shit with the guy who wrote _The Emoji Movie_. You were not invited here and that’s not going to change.’

Apparently telling her to fuck off was where the line was. Jane’s expression goes cold and she turns on her perfect shoes and stalks to the elevator. There’s a supremely awkward four seconds while they wait for the elevator to arrive, during which Karkat continues to scowl at her in order to keep his appearance up, and then she’s gone. 

Dave’s door opens a couple inches behind Karkat’s back.

‘Who were you yelling at?’ Dave whispers.

‘Jane Crocker,’ Karkat says. ‘Rose told me to.’

Not quite the truth, but Karkat doesn’t want the blame if Jane’s actually someone important. 

‘Oh, cool. Fuck. Okay. Thanks babes.’

He closes the door, and Karkat hears him say, _‘FUCK!’_ loudly. 

Karkat’s been used to Dave’s particular kind of bullshit for a very long time. This isn’t Dave’s kind. He doesn’t really raise his voice, and when he doesn’t want to talk to someone, he just loosens his verbal filter a bit.

The only people that doesn’t work on to drive them away are Karkat and Rose, and frankly it sometimes works on them too. 

Karkat returns to his desk and to his work. This might be worth asking for backup. Even though she’s smug as hell every time he needs to.

cinematicGenius [CG] has begun pestering tentacleTherapist [TT]

CG: SO, ARE YOU GOING TO ENLIGHTEN ME AS TO WHAT THE FUCK ALL THAT WAS ABOUT?  
TT: I see Dave’s changed your handle again.   
CG: YEAH, LALONDE, LET’S TALK ABOUT THAT INSTEAD OF THE SHITSTORM THAT JUST WENT DOWN HERE. CLEARLY THE FACT THAT I HAVE NO TECHNOLOGICAL FREEDOM IN THE WORKSPACE IS A MUCH MORE SERIOUS TOPIC THAN THE INVASION I JUST ENDURED.  
TT: Oh please. Jane’s a delightful conversationalist.   
CG: AND???  
TT: And I would appreciate it if you did everything in your power to spare Dave from her conversation.  
CG: YOU KNOW I HAVE NEVER HEARD DAVE SHOUT?  
CG: NOT EVEN WHEN HE STUBBED HIS GODDAMN EYE ON THE CORNER OF HIS DESK CHAIR LAST WEEK.  
TT: How does one stub an eye?  
TT: What do I have to do to obtain that footage.  
CG: NOT EVEN WHEN THE ONLY REEL OF FOOTAGE HE RECORDED FOR THAT OLD TIMEY BULLSHIT HE WAS DOING FOR GERMOY’S RETURN WENT UP IN FLAMES.  
CG: AND HE LOVED THAT FOOTAGE, HE THREW OUT THAT WHOLE FUCKING MOVIE BUT HE DIDN’T SHOUT ONCE.  
TT: Well clearly the answer is that you and he share shouting tokens and you burn through them all.  
CG: FUCK OFF, ROSE.  
CG: TELL ME WHAT’S GOING ON.  
TT: Dave says he trusts you immeasurably.   
CG: HE DOES.  
TT: He says the same about his favourite barista.   
CG: OUCH.  
TT: I’m not trying to be flippant, but he is. All the time.  
TT: When he says that he’d die for you, I believe him. But Dave would probably die for anyone he had more than a three sentence conversation with.  
TT: Of course, he’d be fairly put out about having to sacrifice himself for an acquaintance.  
TT: My point is, Karkat, I trust one person in the world.  
TT: And I don’t fancy upgrading that to two at present.   
TT: Perhaps you should find out if he’s willing to take you into his own confidences.  
TT: Mine are more fiercely guarded.  
CG: YOU UGLY, BRAINLESS COCK-NIPPLE.   
CG: GIVE ME BETTER ANSWERS!  
CG: I’M THE ONLY PERSON WHO CAN STAND TO BE EMPLOYED BY YOUR LUMPY ASS-SHITTING BITCH SHIT OF A BROTHER AND I CAN ONLY DO MY JOB WHEN YOU WORK WITH ME.  
TT: I had hoped you would be able to protect him from someone he doesn’t wish to see without needing to know the details.  
CG: OF FUCKING COURSE I WILL!  
CG: WHO DO YOU THINK I AM??  
CG: I’M THE MOST LOYAL ASSHOLE YOU WILL EVER HAVE THE MISFORTUNE TO HAVE SCREAM AT YOU.  
TT: Yes, and while your temper tantrums are exceptional to behold … I am running late for a meeting.  
TT: Good morning, Karkat.

tentacleTherapist [TT] has ceased pestering cinematicGenius [CG]

Karkat screams into his screaming pillow to vent his feelings. Dave bought him the pillow and commissioned someone to embroider it with sentimental drivel. Karkat would be defensive about his need for a screaming pillow, but he actually does use it. It’s less embarrassing than having security call up to make sure that Dave isn’t being horrifically murdered.

He types up a resignation letter. Then he starts the tedious process of editing out all the swear words and insults. By the time he’s halfway done, he’s calmed down. 

He’s never actually finished writing the damn thing. He deletes the document and goes back to work.

When lunchtime rolls around, Karkat spitefully goes out on his own, leaving Dave to fend for himself. He’s a fully grown adult, he can remember when the middle of the day is and he can figure out how to order a pizza. 

When Karkat gets back at 2, he realises that he doesn’t trust him to do that at all and besides, he feels guilty as fuck. They don’t have lunch together every day, but they do a lot and Karkat always makes sure that Dave has something even if it can’t be with him. Karkat knows Dave skips breakfast a lot and he doesn’t exactly have faith in Dave’s dinner abilities if he’s not networking, so he likes to make sure he has at least one good meal a day. 

He’s so fucking soft.

Karkat knocks on Dave’s door before he opens it anyway, a habit that hasn’t been trained out of him despite the plethora of strange things he’s walked in on Dave doing in the name of “research”, and steps into the room. 

‘Hey,’ Dave says.

Karkat can’t see him. He’s not at his desk. Why is it so dark in here?

‘What’s the point of having a ludicrously tall building if you’re not going to take advantage of the fucking view?’ Karkat asks, marching over to his desk to find the controls that open the curtains. 

‘Karkat, no, please don’t,’ Dave groans.

Karkat opens the curtains anyway and finally finds Dave hiding under his desk like an idiot. He has a bottle with him. Well fuck, this isn’t something he’s seen before either.

‘You’re drunk,’ Karkat accuses.

‘Tryin’ real hard to make that true,’ Dave says. ‘Do we have anything that isn’t bourbon? I think I’ll throw up from the taste long before it actually starts working. I think cutting it with literal piss might improve the taste. I think—’

‘Shut up,’ Karkat says. ‘Use your goddamn words or I swear to fuck that I’ll fire your horse trainer.’

Dave hesitates, staring at his bottle, and then starts to climb out from under his desk. His legs are so long, it’s baffling that he managed to squeeze himself under in the first place. Karkat knows why he did it, why he thought it would be a more appropriate place to hide and drink than on the couch in the corner of his office. Dave would call it irony. But Karkat was the one who placed the order for the weighted blanket. Sometimes his office is too big for him.

Karkat gives Dave his hand to help him properly upright. The bottle he’s holding is still mostly full, but he’s clearly made an attempt at it.

‘I don’t like her,’ Dave says.

‘The Crocker woman?’

‘Hey, for no particular reason, could we please not say her name, like not even a bit, not for any reason, let’s just put her name on that list of words we don’t use, like cunt or moist.’

‘I’ve said cunt four times today at least,’ Karkat replies.

‘Dude,’ Dave says weakly.

Karkat takes pity on him and takes a seat in his usual armchair. Dave falls into the couch like he’s a swooning lady from the 1800s and he’s just been slighted at a ball.

‘Why?’ Karkat asks.

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘You want to talk about everything.’

‘Not this.’

‘So what, you just want me to blindly stop her from talking to you or seeing you without knowing why?’

Dave groans and rubs his eyes under his shades. Karkat might be one of five people who has seen them out of place. He has it on very good authority (see: gossiping wenches who thought Karkat would care) that Dave leaves them on even when he fucks.

‘I thought you were all about catering to my unreasonable demands,’ Dave says.

‘I thought you trusted me,’ Karkat counters.

‘Low blow,’ Dave says. ‘_Fuck_, low blow. Are you kidding me? That barely grazed my toes, it hit the atomic space between my feet’s particles and the floor’s particles, that’s how low that blow was.’

Karkat rolls his eyes. 

‘And yet somehow still hit me in the heart. That’s exceptional marksmanship, ‘Kat, I should hire you to train me in combat.’

‘Dave, you pointless nincompoop, I follow you no matter what. I’ll protect you even if you say it’s because you don’t like the colour of her lipstick. I’d kick her out on her unreasonably sexy ass if you said it was because of _aliens_—’

Dave pales and sits up to look at Karkat warily.

‘That was a joke,’ Karkat says. ‘You don’t actually think … You’re not _that_ kind of crazy …’

‘Uh,’ Dave says. ‘Okay, so yeah, believing in aliens is crazy. Except not really, because do you know how big space is? It’s fucking massive. Maybe not believing in aliens is the real crazy.’

‘Believing in the infiniteness of the universe is so incredibly different to believing that there are aliens walking amongst us,’ Karkat says, incredulous that that even needs to be said. ‘Do you also believe in Bigfoot?’

Dave looks away from Karkat and towards the end of the couch.

‘I don’t _not_ believe in Bigfoot,’ he says sulkily. 

Karkat stares at his insane boss. His _insane_ boss. Well, he’s nothing if not encouraging of Dave’s insanity.

‘Fine,’ Karkat sighs. ‘Consider my disbelief suspended. My disbelief said the forbidden cunt word in front of the principal and now isn’t allowed to attend classes for several days. My disbelief has to write an essay on why that word isn’t to be said and is not available to pester us during this incredibly sincere conversation about alien conspiracy.’

Dave’s mouth twitches with amusement, even though he probably should be insulted and patronised rather than amused. Karkat doesn’t do acceptance like most people. Dave’s gotten used to reading between the insults.

‘Jane’s grandma is actually a terrifying fish alien who has spent the last couple hundred years infiltrating the corporations and politics of america and is going to overthrow the country and therefore the world in like, less than a decade. If I don’t kill her. Because she either wants to rule over all humans in a very life and liberty threatening way or she wants to wipe us out. So.’

Karkat opens his mouth, because he hasn’t yet encountered a problem he hasn’t wanted to shout at. He closes it again.

‘I’ll keep her from seeing you,’ Karkat says. ‘And anyone involved with their company.’

‘You believe me?’ Dave asks, sitting up so he can actually pay attention to Karkat’s reaction.

‘Fuck no,’ Karkat says. ‘Does that matter?’

Dave stares at Karkat for a bit before he decides it doesn’t matter. Karkat’s got his back every bit as much as he would if he did believe him. He won’t spread the secret or let anyone from Betty Crocker near Dave. And he’s not pandering to him. 

Maybe he should give him another raise.


	2. Chapter 2

Karkat spends a full hour shouting at the security team to make sure that not a single representative of the Betty Crocker corporation will be permitted through their building doors. He makes sure that the digital security guy creates a database of employees that the physical security guards can reference based on drivers licenses to ensure this. 

He sounds just as crazy as Dave, but he doesn’t care. It isn’t anywhere _close_ to the strangest thing he’s asked staff to do on Dave’s behalf.

With physical access barred, he receives an email and a phone call every single day for the next month from Jane Crocker. From her, personally, not even an assistant. He does a bit of research and discovers that her attention has never resulted in a corporation declining to join her empire. And for a company that markets itself as a baked goods empire, it sure does own a lot of other companies.

The word “megacorporation” has been used to describe it unironically. Five years ago, there were articles describing the fact that every major food and beverage company was owned by 10 umbrella corporations. That number is now down to four. And it’s not just the food industry. It’s everything.

Okay, so he still doesn’t believe that there’s an alien conspiracy. Even though despite Dave’s success, Karkat can’t think of any reason that Jane would like to add him to her portfolio. It just couldn’t be because of Dave’s conspiracy theory, surely.

A month of pestering later, and Karkat walks into the office to see an inbox full of premiere requirements and plans for the next film, but nothing from anyone@crockercorp.com. He sighs with relief. It took more than he expected to get her off his back, but it’s nice to be given up on. There are other famous people she can own for much less effort, after all. 

But shortly after Dave arrives, he calls Karkat into his office.

‘It’s Tuesday,’ Karkat says. ‘Why isn’t your asshole sister tormenting me?’

‘She knew we’d be busy with our own shit,’ Dave sighs. 

He gestures at the seat opposite his desk. Karkat sits warily, not taking his eyes off Dave. He feels like he’s been called into his manager’s office. Which he has, but he _hasn’t_, not ever with Dave, Dave doesn’t give a shit that Karkat never learned how to conduct himself professionally. Dave _likes_ that.

‘Am I in trouble?’ Karkat asks.

Dave stares at Karkat and fails to say no. 

Karkat feels a lump hot and heavy in his throat and struggles to swallow past it. Dave would never fire him …

‘I got a report here,’ Dave says. ‘Says you’ve been bullying people. Like, a lot of people. Girls.’

Karkat stares at Dave in shock. He doesn’t … well, he _does_, but no one takes him seriously, they all know who he is and how he speaks. He knows the people here. He’s gentle with them when they probably deserve a hard speaking, he’s only rude and okay, a bit cruel, to the ones who have no reason to think it’s about them, it’s all his own bullshit.

‘You get a call from Crocker today?’ Dave asks.

‘_That’s_ your concern?’ Karkat asks. ‘No, I haven’t. It’s still early, but she usually calls right on 9am. I’m handling it, I told you I’d handle it.’

‘Yeah, so there’s no way this isn’t her,’ Dave says, leaning back in his chair.

‘What?’

‘Dude, you’re an offensive little shitweasel but you aren’t … I know you ain’t harassing girls, Karkat. You read Cosmo.’

‘That’s not a fucking guarantee, assholes can still read—’

‘I know you.’

They sit in silence for a bit, Karkat honestly battling the urge to tell Dave to take the complaints seriously even though he would probably dissolve like the world’s thinnest one-ply toilet paper when confronted with someone legitimately offended by him and he likes to think he has a pretty good awareness for other people’s feelings. Dave appears to be staring off into space vacantly, but Karkat is pretty sure that’s his thinking face. 

‘I don’t know what to do,’ Dave says quietly. ‘Guess I’ll call Rose. It seems like a big enough deal to admit to her I’d like her advice, and she always knows what’s what. That’s … Kat, if you ever have trouble, like proper trouble, you lay it at Rose’s door. She’ll make it gone. I don’t offer that to anyone, she wouldn’t do it for anyone. But you’re …’

Karkat watches Dave until he sees that Dave’s abandoned that thought, and probably the next twenty as well. He speeds past ideas like he’s never seen a good one. Karkat watches it happen from the outside and decides if he’s not being fired, he’s going back to work. 

‘Thanks,’ he says, awkwardly. 

Dave jolts back into the room and nods. Karkat leaves the room and goes back to his desk. He feels uncertain, now. He stares at his computer, full of emails.

Dave,

Just an email to remind you that you said it’d be cool if I brought my girlfriend to your premiere. 

Charlie

See that right there. Karkat would normally send a very strongly worded reply to let whoever the fuck this Charlie asshole is know that nothing Dave says while drunk or _ever_ for that matter is to be trusted and in fact fuck off, you’re uninvited! But now …

It takes him three weeks to get properly back to normal. During that time, almost every person Karkat interacts with asks if he’s okay or assumes he’s _actually_ pissed off with them. A surprising amount of people come to his defence when they hear he’s been told off. It’s somewhat reassuring.

Really, the thing that makes him recover is knowing that him continuing to work there has to be driving Crocker crazy. Has she ever not gotten what she wanted?

*

Karkat’s always worked longer hours than he should. Than Dave deserves. He finishes work this particular Wednesday just after the third time the security guard begs him to let him close the building up. He was getting hungry, anyway.

He gets home, arms full of bags that don’t want to get lighter no matter how much he swears at them for being heavy or himself for fucking up the very simple list of three things he needed and ending up with however the fuck many this is. 

He puts his groceries away and tells his stove off for not having cooked him dinner, then himself off for not just getting takeaway, then himself off for even thinking of having takeaway when he’s a perfectly good cook and he’s not counting calories by any stretch of the imagination but being furious at all times doesn’t exactly burn off fast food every single night.

‘Of course what does it matter when Strider’s going to send you to an early grave anyway?’ he asks himself. ‘You might as well die fat and happy and preferably having just flipped him off. God, I’d do anything to be able to time my inevitable brain hemorrhage so that it’s right at the end of a very pointed speech about how much I hate him, just so that there was no doubt who had killed me. Why do I still work there?’

Karkat sighs and looks mournfully at the stove. Okay, he can definitely do this. He just … can’t do it in a tie. Sure, he’s been wearing it for over 12 hours now. But there’s a time of day when the fact that he wears a tie fades into background noise and that time abso-fucking-lutely is not 8:30 at night when his neck has decided it can’t handle the constriction anymore.

He slouches to his bedroom, tugging his tie loose but not all the way undone because he uses the same knot every day (it looks fine, shut up, knowing how to tie a tie is a useless skill when he has five pre-tied ties) and unbuttoning his top button.

He stops in the doorway when he sees what’s waiting for him.

Jane Crocker is on his bed, showcasing the fact that the season’s sluttiest lingerie that’s still catwalk suitable comes in Crocker red. 

‘You’re a difficult man to get a hold of, Mr Vantas,’ Jane says, spreading her legs in a way that makes it impossible for Karkat to do anything else but look at the flimsy red fabric barely covering her up.

‘I don’t work from home,’ Karkat says.

‘Take this as an opportunity to further our personal connections, then.’

‘Are you using sex as a networking technique?’

‘It’s funner and more efficient than the alternative.’

That’s so fucking entitled, what, just because she’s one of the hottest women Karkat’s ever seen he’s going to sleep with her? Or because he sleeps with her he would let it impact his work life? It’s like, who does she think he is? He’s a fucking professional, that’s who!

Karkat decides that he draws the line right here. His boss does not determine who he sleeps with. He will not be a cog in the Crocker plan. He is so much more than that.

He strides towards the bed, unbuttoning his shirt. Jane sits up and works on his pants, sliding them past his ass just as he gets to the last button. He thrusts his wrists towards her so she can fiddle with his cuff buttons and she gets them undone. Stepping out of his pants and ripping off his shirt in one motion, Karkat climbs onto the bed and presses Jane down into it.

He doesn’t let himself overthink things. As far as he can tell, the nonsense about avoiding kissing people that you don’t want a romantic connection with is exactly that: nonsense. He sucks her plump lower lip into his mouth and then bites, causing her to gasp. He sized her up the second she walked into his office and he knows that if she’s expecting to use sex to get her way, she’s expecting to be in control. He’s not going to let her have that for a second. 

He doesn’t let her get used to kissing him, even though her soft lips and tongue are intoxicating. He holds her down by the soft shoulder as he kisses down her neck, to her breasts. Despite his goal-focused nature, he can’t help but linger. On her back, they seem determined to escape her bra, despite the very necessary boning over the fabric working hard to keep them confined. 

Karkat slips his hand under her waist and pulls her up, still kissing along the exposed skin, and unclips her bra. She rolls her shoulders in a way that relieves her shoulders of the straps and Karkat flings it behind him carelessly, lowering her gently back to the bed. 

Karkat takes his time appreciating the most impressive breasts he’s ever had the opportunity to kiss, nuzzling at the soft skin and sucking a bruise into one. He massages them worshipfully and keeps traveling lower. 

Her stomach is soft with silvery lightning etched into the skin of her sides. She has an outie belly button, which is so cute it sends Karkat paradoxically into rage. He pulls her panties off, no longer fucking around, and buries his face between her thighs. 

_’Oh,’_ Jane sighs.

He licks her with flat strokes of his tongue, indiscriminate and messy to give her body a chance to catch up. She’s already so wet, the sharp taste of her arousal heavy, and he wonders if this is from the anticipation of him coming home, if she touched herself through that lacy red fabric as she waited. Karkat groans at the thought and presses his tongue between her folds. 

Jane makes another noise above him, louder this time. She’s not as inhibited as her tailored suits pretend. But he doesn’t want freely given moans, he doesn’t want her pretty or dignified. He wants to rip completely unfiltered sounds from her, wants her to fail at every plan she had for him. She can’t fire him, she can’t seduce him, she can’t even get fucked the way she thought she wanted. 

Karkat lifts her legs onto his shoulders, allowing him to press closer so he can _suck_ at her clit. She squeals with surprise and Karkat flushes with victory. Her thighs are a welcome weight on either side of his face as he licks teasingly light, relishing the way her hips chase his mouth. 

This is the angriest he’s ever been while going down on a woman, even though his ex-girlfriend had a habit of picking fights with him to intensify their sex. He can’t get over her _arrogance,_ her complete disregard for consequences. Karkat isn’t going to report this, he doesn’t even know how he’d go about that or to whom, but he sure as fuck is pissed that she isn’t concerned about that. 

She’s not in control now though, her thighs squeezing him close and grinding needily against him as she groans. Her noises aren’t pretty anymore, they’re animalistic, and they’re loud enough that Karkat can easily hear them despite being functionally earmuffed. 

The sensory deprivation means that he jumps a bit when he feels her hand on the back of his head. Her fingers thread through his hair, nails long and dangerous against his scalp, and she presses him closer. 

He can’t take anything close to normal breaths now, but he’s fucking determined to make her come. He’s not going to tap out because of a little mild suffocation. He certainly isn’t going to rush himself because his own arousal is getting harder and harder to ignore. 

Her other hand reaches just under her ass, like she doesn’t realise he’s intentionally not giving her his fingers. He slaps her hand away and makes a growling disapproving noise in his throat. She lets out a high pitched whine of frustration, and her gyrations become even more desperate. She’s basically fucking his face, and while Karkat loves that she can’t help herself, she’s not allowed to be in control. 

He grabs her on the ass with both hands and holds her steady against the sheets, licking and sucking as if it’s the most important thing he will ever do. Her thighs relax helplessly and it’s almost shocking how much louder she is without them pressed against his ears. 

She _screams_ when she comes, and if Karkat gave a shit about her he would give her time and space to recover. Hell, he wouldn’t even expect reciprocation from a one-night stand, but he doesn’t have to be considerate of this _bitch_ who would let him get sexual harassment charges if it meant she got her way.

He pulls back and wipes off his mouth, taking in the way her eyes are still squeezed shut, that tension in her body that means her orgasm is lingering. He’d work her through it if he cared, but he doesn’t. 

Instead, he strips his briefs off, grabs lube from his bedside table and straddles her waist before she even opens her eyes. He holds eye contact with her as he pours out more than he needs, letting it drip through his fingers and in between her tits. Her eyes are unfocused, not just because she knocked her glasses off at some point. Her eyes are ice-blue and captivating without the obstruction.

Karkat palms his cock, biting his lip against a groan as he does. Now that he can’t bury his focus in Jane, his body is screaming at him to just _come_ already. He drops the lube and his cock and moves up her body until she has to move her arms for him. 

And then he holds her breasts together and fucks them. 

It’s so much so fast, and the sight of it, of his cock disappearing into her cleavage and wetly being drawn back … he knows he’s not going to last long. He doesn’t want to, he has nothing to prove. 

Jane is still boneless from his tongue. She makes an effort to put her hand on Karkat’s thigh, but she’s clearly not even remotely up to participating. It’s better this way, sends a message. She made this about her body, and he’s using it. And _fuck,_ what a body. He thumbs over her still erect nipples as he thrusts between her tits and she squirms a little with oversensitivity. 

In that moment, her face holds echoes of the wrecked expression she made as she came, and that’s what tips Karkat over the edge, holding himself so deep inside her cleavage as his thighs tense that the head of his cock is fully visible on the other side. His come spurts over her neck, up to her jaw, and she tilts her head away to avoid it. 

He releases her and leaves the bed. He looks back at her as he pulls his underwear back on and despite his best efforts to look her in the eye, she’s leaning up on her elbow and his come is slowly dripping down her neck and onto her breasts. 

He hates this woman more than he’s ever hated anyone, she’s made his life hell for the last couple of months and if she even thought about how it affected him, she definitely didn’t care about it. Karkat barely tolerates Dave’s rich person logic, and he only likes him because he knows Dave not only worked his ass off for every cent, he fucking hates that anyone rewarded him for his bullshit. Karkat truly believes Dave would rather be penniless and misunderstood any day.

Jane, on the other hand … Karkat’s researched her. She’s an heiress, she grew up with everything, including the assumption that she’d eventually take control of the company she owns. She’s arrogant enough to believe that she’s the best CEO Crockercorp has ever had, and she has no patience for people who haven’t got something she wants. 

He still can’t kick her out sticky with his come. It’d be one move too far.

He grabs a towel and throws it to her, pointing across the hall to his bathroom. 

‘You might as well shower before you leave,’ he says. And then he picks up his shirt and pants and leaves his bedroom before he does something stupid like apologise for doing exactly what she must have known he would do, if only in his own way.

Dressed and in the kitchen, Karkat leans against his fridge and knocks his forehead against the stainless steel, berating himself for being so stupid. _So_ stupid. It had seemed like the smart thing to do, but clearly his dick was in charge of the logic there. He’d honestly thought that if he fucked her _his_ way rather than however she expected him to then he would, what? Win? She still expected him to sleep with her, and she clearly has a reason for that that he walked right into.

He groans into his freezer door and forces himself to stop wallowing in self-pity like a moronic bitchshitting douchebag and do something useful for once. He starts making dinner. 

Jane comes downstairs 20 minutes later, because she’s an asshole who has never had to think about water bills and wouldn’t give a shit about Karkat’s even if she knew what they were. She’s wearing a red dress, and he has to work to keep himself from staring hungrily at her curves now he knows what she looks like under it. 

He glares at her half-heartedly, because he knows that it doesn’t matter how grumpy he looks when he’s about to undercut it. He hands her a bowl of pasta.

‘What’s this?’ she asks.

‘Have you eaten?’ he asks.

‘No.’

‘Then it’s your dinner. Unless you’ve got some deathly allergy I should know about.’

She shakes her head and sits in the chair he directs her to. He takes the one opposite to her and wonders if she needs to know how long it’s been since he’s gotten laid to justify how fucking stupid he just was. No, he thinks he’ll keep that to himself. 

‘What do you want, Crocker?’ he asks.

‘Well I did want a fuck,’ she says dryly. ‘You know what I want.’

Karkat sighs. He’s not one inch more likely to give her a meeting with Dave now than he was yesterday, and he has to assume that Jane thought he would be because she has never had anyone say no to her. She probably is in uncharted territory and has turned to Hollywood to provide her next step. Or Pornhub, considering her approach.

‘I’m not giving you a meeting with Strider,’ he says firmly.

_’Why,’_ she asks.

‘I don’t question a single fucking one of the things he asks me to do. I couldn’t give a shit why he doesn’t want to see you. I just do my job, and I’m fucking good at it, which is why you’ll never get me fired and you’ll never see him while I’m there to prevent it and he tells me that’s what he wants.’

Jane puts down her fork. Karkat is satisfied to see that she’s eaten half her bowl, so clearly his cooking is up to her fancy pants standards.

‘No one says no to me,’ Jane says.

Karkat puts his fork down as well and leans across the table. 

‘No.’

There’s a beat of silence. Jane looks shocked for only a split second before her expression changes to angry, then flimsy composure.

‘Fuck you,’ she says, standing up haughtily. Karkat watches her ass as she storms out of his apartment. He’d honestly expected her to be more cunning than that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane tricks her way back into Karkat's bed again, this time bringing Dave along.

It takes a week for Karkat to see any consequence for sleeping with the enemy. The consequence comes sauntering through his elevator in a suit, hips sashaying more than Karkat expects from a man even in Hollywood. It takes him several seconds to place the icy blue eyes, and in that time she’s slid a CD case under Dave’s door and straightened again. 

‘Get the fuck out,’ Karkat says.

Jane laughs, a gentle hoo hoo that is completely incongruous with her very convincing disguise. She looks like a stocky man with a moustache and everything. It’s not actually surprising she got past the security guard, Karkat is sure her ID is perfect.

‘I thought you’d be pleased to see me,’ Jane says, her eyes crinkling with flirty humour. 

‘Get. Out.’ Karkat enunciates clearly, and scrambles around his desk to shoo her out. 

‘Oh, _dearie,’_ she says condescendingly, not moving from the door. ‘I’m not afraid of you.’

Dave opens his office door, holding the CD case.

‘Karkat, what—’

Jane pushes Dave back into his office and closes the door with both of them on the inside. Karkat pounces on the handle, but she’s locked the door. He presses his ear to the wood and hears, ‘It’s not a virus, Mr Strider, but if you’re that concerned I would be happy to play it on my own device.’

Security. He needs to call security. He gets back behind his desk and presses the speed dial. He frowns at the lack of tone. He looks at the phone, picks it up, and finally sees the problem. When Jane crouched to slide the CD, she also cut the power cord. 

Fucking Strider with his insistence on old school technology, paranoid bastard. Karkat pulls his cell out of his pocket and suddenly realises he has no idea what the security number is. He has to call the main building line, and no amount of swearing into the receiver is enough to make the hold music cease and connect him to a real person.

Meanwhile, as Karkat is struggling to access security, Jane has pulled a laptop from her vest and is leaning over Dave’s shoulder as he sits at his desk. Both of them watch Jane lying on Karkat’s bed. The picture is clear enough to see the rise and fall of her chest as she waits. 

Karkat enters the room and they both listen as they exchange a few short lines of banter. Dave’s lips part slightly in surprise as Karkat strides to the bed, already undressing. His mouth falls open even more as he watches his almost naked assistant kiss Jane passionately and efficiently down her body until his face is buried between her thighs. 

‘He was _very_ good,’ Jane murmurs.

Dave attempts to make a noise of communication, though communicating what he couldn’t say, and his voice is drowned out by Jane’s moans increasing in volume through the surprisingly good quality laptop speakers.

The Jane in the video wraps her thighs around Karkat’s head and presses down with her hand for good measure. Even from the restricted and fixed camera angle, it’s obvious that he’s going to fucking town.

‘Why are you showing me this,’ Dave croaks. 

‘Is this the man you want as your assistant?’ Jane asks. ‘He was awfully easy to corrupt.’

The Jane on the screen comes loudly and Dave is completely distracted from the Jane in his office by Karkat’s underwear finally coming off and _how the fuck did he never realise how hot Karkat is?_

Karkat fucks Jane’s tits with a look of furious concentration. Dave thought Jane’s body was distracting when he could only see Karkat’s back, and not even much of that. Now he barely notices her, too busy trying to figure out where Karkat has been hiding that body and whether it’s really, really unethical to bang his employee. 

_‘Jesus,’_ Dave whispers as Karkat comes over Jane’s face.

‘Well?’ Jane asks. ‘Do you really still want him?’

‘Yes,’ Dave answers before his brain catches up enough to realise no, that wasn’t what Jane was asking and that he shouldn’t be saying anything to her anyway and _fuck_ he is just harder than college level physics isn’t he.

‘I mean,’ he says. ‘That was his free time, he didn’t fuck you on my desk, he can do what he wants, I’m not firing him.’

Jane slides from behind Dave’s chair to sit on the edge of his desk. 

‘You’re gay,’ she says.

‘Nah,’ Dave denies easily. ‘Just more loyal than that.’

Jane smiles slowly, figuring it out. 

‘You’re _bi,’_ she says.

Dave keeps his face carefully expressionless, but in his effort to not give himself away, forgets to answer. 

‘Interesting,’ Jane says. ‘I actually do support LGBT rights despite appearances. But my company doesn’t. And the media certainly doesn’t. Well, they say they do. But they really just occasionally have a token gay character, bi is _way_ too scary. Especially with your audience of frat boys and Internet trolls.’

Dave keeps his face impassive. He could point out that she has no proof and that the media is constantly speculating about his sexuality based on his willingness to wear suits more adventurous than plain black. But he won’t bite. He’s already bitten too much. He can’t give her an inch more.

‘But I don’t actually want to ruin you,’ Jane says, leaning back on her palms as she thinks. ‘Because then you’d be useless to me. And of course, an empty threat is worse than no threat at all. I follow through.’

She taps a nail against his desk. Dave considers dragging her out of his office, but he doesn’t think he could lay hands on a woman like that.

‘Not the stick then,’ she says. ‘Money isn’t the way to your heart, I’m not so foolish as to think that.’

The door bursts open, Zahhak from security having charged right the way through it. Dave cringes at the loss. Jane flicks a card seemingly from nowhere and slips it safely into Dave’s breast pocket.

‘Let me know if you’d like to discuss a film deal between you and I,’ she says. ‘I think my previous partner would be very interested in a starring role, and you’d appreciate that kind of star power, wouldn’t you?’

‘You’re bluffing,’ Dave says.

‘Call me,’ Jane says. 

She winks at him and then leans in to whisper in his ear. 

‘I don’t know many straight men who have the things I found while rummaging amongst Mr Vantas’s drawers.’

Zahhak looms over both of them and Jane doesn’t make him lay a hand on her. She allows herself to be ushered out. Dave sees her blow Karkat a kiss before she gets into the elevator. 

She left her laptop. With the DVD inside. 

‘What did she say?’ Karkat asks. ‘Do you need me to do something? Call Rose? Bring you a drink you can tolerate? Send the interns to TP her building?’

Dave laughs weakly and closes the laptop lid in a way he hopes is casual. He keeps his chair rolled in all the way to his desk and doesn’t allow himself to look down to make sure he’s hidden. 

‘I’m fine, Karkat,’ he says. ‘Wait, actually, yes to the TP thing. And like, any other childish pranks you can think of. Put whoopee cushions on all the seats in her building if you can, hire a clown to follow her around, whatever you want, spare no expense. Say it’s promotion for the new movie if someone gets on your case and we’ll make it all back at the box office.’

‘Okay,’ Karkat says. ‘I’ll, uh, I’ll see what I can do.’ 

He hesitates in the doorway of Dave’s office. For a moment, Dave thinks he’s going to bring up what’s on the video. But he just nods and closes the door. 

*

A week after Crocker snuck into the building, Karkat gets back to his desk after lunch and finds a sticky note on his monitor in Dave’s handwriting, saying “gone fishin’.” Karkat snorts and crumples it up. Whatever Dave’s gone to do (and it might _actually_ be fishing, there’s no way to tell), Karkat has an amount of time without him in the office. That’s always a blessing.

It turns out to be the rest of the day. It’s basically the most productive day Karkat has ever had, something that he can’t wait to tell Dave while suggesting he take more time off. He actually feels okay leaving at 6pm. Maybe he’ll even call a friend and try to resurrect his long-dead social life for an evening.

He’s in such a good mood that he barely swears at his keys as he unlocks his door; he’s still not used to the new shape of them since changing his locks following his unexpected visitor. He sets his satchel down on the kitchen table and decides he’ll check that he has something to wear before scrolling through his contact list. 

He stops outside his bedroom when he hears a rustling noise coming from inside it. He carefully toes his shoes off and holds one in both hands as the most pathetic makeshift weapon anyone has ever used. He hopes it’s not a rat, he _will_ scream if it’s a rat. He opens the door and _oh._

‘We weren’t expecting you so early,’ Jane says, as if that’s an explanation. 

‘This is not fishing,’ Karkat tells Dave.

‘I dunno,’ he says. ‘Maybe it _should_ be. Real fishing sounds boring as fuck, people probably don’t actually do that, it’s just a _Brokeback Mountain_ style excuse for the wives so that dudes can go bang their buddies up in those rustic cottages they have up there.’

Jane smooths down the lace she was clipping to Dave and pushes the bag off Karkat’s bed, prompting the rustling noise he heard before. She’s wearing a new set of lingerie, just as red and runway ready as the last outfit she brought to Karkat’s bed. Dave is wearing red as well, lacy panties struggling to cover his soft cock and a matching something that almost looks like a bra, except that it doesn’t really have cups. It looks like it’s been designed for a man. It looks like it’s been designed with Dave specifically in mind. He hasn’t taken off his shades, naturally.

‘I’d like to point out, before anyone gets ideas, that red is actually my favourite colour and it looks good with my skin tone and also it’s not _Crocker_ red, I’m not being her pet here, I’m an equal participant, okay?’

‘What the fuck,’ Karkat breathes.

‘Please, it’s not that difficult to understand,’ Jane says. ‘Dave was a fan of the home video I showed him.’

Karkat feels heat fill his cheeks as he realises that _of course_ Jane taped them. Why wouldn’t she? 

‘Yeah, it was …’ Dave starts, but his voice trails off. Karkat’s blush worsens as he tries to process that. Dave liked the video? Liked _him?_

‘I think Karkat’s wearing too many clothes, don’t you, Dave?’

Karkat bristles a bit at Jane just using Dave’s name all casual like that, like they’re friends, but before he can tell her off or do much of anything, they’re both getting off the bed and approaching him. Dave takes Karkat’s shoe from his hands and smiles at him while Jane is focusing on undoing his collar buttons.

‘Dude, what the fuck?’

‘Shut up,’ Karkat mumbles. 

‘It’s cute,’ Dave assures him. ‘But I think I’m gonna keep Rose as my second if it comes to a fight.’

Dave drops the shoe and picks up Karkat’s hand, undoing his cuffs. It should be a casual gesture, compared to everything else that’s happening, but somehow there’s an intimacy to it. Dave’s fingers brushing against Karkat’s wrist, him being close enough that Karkat feels every inch of height Dave has on him that he usually dismisses. Dave doesn’t look away from Karkat’s face as he moves to his other cuff.

It makes Karkat jump when Jane starts to push his shirt off his shoulders. He somehow forgot about her while he was trying to stare past Dave’s shades. Ah fuck, she pulled his tie all the way loose. He’ll need to call Kanaya to get her to tie it for him again.

Dave and Jane exchange a look and must communicate something because Jane starts working on Karkat’s belt and Dave moves behind Karkat, pressing his chest to Karkat’s back and his lips to his neck. 

‘You can tell us to fuck off,’ Dave murmurs. ‘I don’t want you to, but you could.’

Karkat tilts his head to the side and Dave takes it as the hint it is, kissing him again. Dave’s hands drag slowly around Karkat’s sides until one’s over his belly button reaching up to his ribs, pulling Karkat back and even more firmly against Dave, the other dipping fingertips just barely into the waistband of his briefs. 

‘You’re really fucking hot,’ Dave whispers. 

Jane pulls Karkat’s pants and briefs down, settling on her knees to get them off his feet. Dave’s hand inches closer to Karkat’s cock.

‘Tell me you’re okay with this,’ Dave says.

‘Yes,’ Karkat says, his voice rough. ‘Please, Dave.’

Dave kisses Karkat’s shoulder as he takes Karkat in hand, stroking with a loose grip and making it a lot harder for Karkat to focus on lifting his feet as Jane is directing. She kisses him on the upper thigh, looking up at him, then Dave. 

Karkat feels Dave nod his head, then press closer to him. He feels Dave’s erection against his ass just before Jane closes her red lips around his cock, Dave helpfully holding him steady. Karkat’s breath leaves his lungs as he’s engulfed in wet warmth, the feeling of Dave’s nose trailing behind his ear and breath on his neck somehow still demanding his attention.

Jane starts to move, her eyes fluttering closed and then staying low instead of looking up at him. She’s still perfectly composed, porn worthy, and Karkat wants to disrupt her appearance even more this time. Her lipstick isn’t even shifting, isn’t even _textured_ the way Karkat expects, like her lips are stained with something more permanent that prevents it from ever smudging. Her mascara isn’t infallible though, it’s already slightly smudged in the corner and if Karkat has to spank her till she cries he _will_ ruin her. Of course he could always …

He thrusts into her mouth tentatively, just testing to make sure she won’t bite him if he participates. Dave’s hand was acting as something between extra stimulation and cock-ring, keeping that firm hold around his dick while teasing at his balls with gentle fingers, but he withdraws it to give them extra room. Jane looks up at Karkat as she slides slowly off him, and when her lips are barely on the head, the corner of her mostly empty mouth twitches up. She sinks onto him with more speed and depth than she’d given him before and he thinks she’s encouraging him to thrust again. She definitely isn’t telling him off.

Dave’s hand starts to trail up Karkat’s chest, then down his back until he’s squeezing his ass. He’s very carefully not getting in the way of Karkat’s thrusting, just adding to his pleasure. And uncharacteristically quiet.

‘Is this how to shut you up?’ Karkat asks, a bit breathless.

‘She told me not to ruin it,’ Dave says. ‘And I really, really don’t want to. Would seriously do anything to keep this happen, up to and including controlling my tongue.’

‘I like your tongue.’

_’Fuck,’_ Dave breathes. His fingers tighten on Karkat for a second before he moves to his side, cupping his jaw to guide him into a kiss.

It’s dirty and wet immediately, Dave giving Karkat his tongue as if that was what he meant. Karkat moans into Dave’s mouth and grabs at his elbow to keep him close. Dave’s cock is pressing into Karkat’s hip and he’s forgotten to keep thrusting, but Jane’s up to the task of picking up the slack.

Karkat and Dave’s kissing quickly becomes desperate, hands on the edge of clawing at each other as they put everything into a high school level messy makeout. Karkat realises almost too late that he’s in serious danger of coming; high school fumblings never came with a woman on her knees sucking the life out of his dick as she teases fingers over his taint.

‘Wait,’ he gasps, pulling back from Dave, hand going to the base of his dick. Jane backs off, which is actually more than he expected. 

‘Were you—?’ Dave asks. ‘Jesus fuck that’s hot,’ he says, leaning his head into Karkat’s shoulder as if he needs the support.

‘Well Mr Vantas?’ Jane says, getting to her feet. ‘We’re here for you. Would you like to direct things?’

‘I think I’ll literally explode if I don’t have a breather,’ he says. Dave seems to be incapable of stopping touching, even if his hands are gentle and well above Karkat’s waist. His fingers linger over Karkat’s nipple and Karkat makes a helpless “mmngh” noise. _‘Dave,’_ he begs.

‘How about you watch for a bit,’ Jane suggests.

Karkat nods and Jane pulls Dave away from him. Dave gives him a cocky smirk and makes kissy lips at him before getting onto the bed with Jane. Karkat breathes deeply and tries to calm himself down. 

Jane moves back and onto the bed with a confidence that makes Karkat nervous, like she knows exactly where it is and how tall it is. She has one hand on Dave’s shoulder and the other on the strap of his lingerie, and she uses them to pull him on top of her. He falls gracefully, like all he wanted to do was be there, and leans down to kiss her. 

Karkat watches, feeling the urgency of his arousal fade into something more manageable now that he’s not being touched, despite the show in front of him. He’s always known Dave is attractive, he’s not _blind,_ but he’s worked for him for five years now, he was hired in that sweet spot where Dave’s name was starting to be noticed but the media hadn’t noticed that he was attractive and charming yet. He had to push down all feelings that crept above professional admiration so that he could do his fucking job.

It wasn’t even that hard at the time. Dave might have landed a magazine cover in Karkat’s first year working for him (and about thirty the following year) but Karkat had worked for hot people before and it’s LA, if he got into a state whenever he saw a famous person he wouldn’t last five minutes.

Now, Karkat can look. He can see strong muscles wrapping over Dave’s back, defined lines drawn down his arm, interrupted by a strap falling down his shoulder like he’s a Hollywood starlet playing coy. Jane looks impossibly soft underneath him. He never knew Dave took any kind of care with his body.

Dave starts to unclip her bra and she makes a little protesting noise. He lets go and it snaps against her, so she pulls his hair.

_’Aah,_ dude, don’t pull my hair!’

‘Don’t call me dude immediately after trying to get into my bra!’ Jane says.

She releases Dave’s hair and he extends his arms to get some distance between their faces. 

‘I thought that was the point of this,’ he says.

‘It’s just that the lingerie was very expensive and is very pretty and it seems a waste to take it off right away.’

Dave looks towards Karkat and makes the head motion that’s his version of rolling his eyes.

‘Can you believe this?’

‘If she wants to try and get stains off her delicates, that’s her business,’ Karkat says. 

Jane huffs and pulls Dave back down with a hand to the back of his neck. Dave resists for just a second, still looking at Karkat, before he lets himself be dragged back. Karkat watches as Dave bites Jane’s lower lip, pulling it just a bit. Karkat wants those teeth on him. They’re almost perfect, the way all Hollywood teeth are, but there’s a tiny chip on the back of his left canine that doesn’t show up in pictures and that he doesn’t want to get fixed because of his thing with needles. Karkat feels possessive about the fact that he knows this. That he knows _Dave._

He doesn’t want to overstate his feelings for Dave, or even look at them too much. He knows there’s something there, but he’s not going to sit down and analyse his feelings in the middle of a threesome. And he has sexy feelings, albeit less complicated and less conventional ones, for Jane. Apparently he’s calling the shots. So, what does he want here?

He wants to fuck Dave, he answers himself easily. And he wants him all to himself, as stupid as that is in a casual threesome. He’s always been stupid about shit like this, demanding too much even when a thing isn’t settled enough to bear the weight of that. But it doesn’t need to sound needy, not this time, no matter his feelings. It’s just a preference, right? But if he’s keeping Dave to himself … _aha._

Okay, now that he’s thought about it, he’s _absolutely_ made the right call. Last time he had sex with Jane, he felt guilty about how he treated her after the fact, even knowing that she only saw him as a tool to get what she wanted. And right now, he’s feeling that identical hate-chemistry that makes him want to be a kind of mean he knows he won’t like when the lust wears off. Unless she’s the one who fucks him.

Dave and Jane are making out on the bed, absorbed enough in each other that Karkat can walk quietly to his closet and dig out the— 

… 

The discrete box that he keeps _private items_ in isn’t in his closet.

He stands up straight and turns back to the bed. Dave is kissing Jane’s neck, his hand between their legs. Jane’s eyes are right on Karkat.

‘Missing something?’ she asks. 

‘Yeah,’ Karkat says, his voice sarcastic in his outrage. 

Dave lifts his head up to see what they’re talking about, but Jane presses his face back to her skin. 

‘I’ve made some improvements. On this side of the bed.’

Karkat doesn’t stomp to where Jane indicates, if only because he knows it would look ridiculous. He finds a box, almost the same colours as the one he had but made out of something much nicer than painted balsa wood and opens the lid. 

Everything that he had in there, from the harness that he wanted to the vibe he liked on his own to the set of handcuffs he hadn’t used since his ex, has been replaced with new, subtly better versions. He feels the insult and worse, the shame in knowing he will absolutely be keeping the upgrades. If she isn’t teasing him with the possibility and actually lets him. He takes the harness, lube and double ended glass toy, putting off his anger until later. 

Jane’s fingers tighten in Dave’s hair so he knows to look at Karkat. 

‘Which one of us is taking that?’ he asks. ‘Unless it’s a dee-pee sitch?’

‘Me,’ Karkat says, glaring at Jane. Her smile widens to show a few teeth. He looks back at Dave, his face softening. ‘While I take you, if that’s …’

‘That’s fine,’ Dave says hurriedly. ‘Better than fine. Awesome. Literally worthy of awe, someone’s out there making a commemorative statue of you fucking me to mark the occasion, the epic’s in publishing and even though it’s an emerging writer, the head honchos are excited, that’s how you know how good it is.’

‘Do not,’ Karkat articulates, stepping closer to Dave, ‘even _dare_,’ Karkat’s in reach of him now, so he points his finger at his chest, ‘commission a statue of this.’

Dave laughs guiltily. Karkat smiles, just a little bit. He hasn’t forgotten that Jane’s watching them. 

Dave starts to climb off her but Jane holds his shoulder still. 

‘I can’t imagine you want me assisting with that!’ Jane says, holding her red, manicured nails up. ‘But perhaps we can continue while Karkat prepares you.’

Dave holds his free finger and thumb in an O.K. sign and pulls Jane’s panties off before leaning back over her. Karkat swallows against his dry mouth and climbs onto the bed behind them.

He strokes down Dave’s back first, greedily feeling the warmth of his skin and the firmness of his muscles. He savours it for the few seconds he can hold onto his self-control, but finally gives into his need to squeeze Dave’s ass.

Karkat actually makes a tiny noise of appreciation and lust. He’s not perfect, and if perfect means not flipping out over the cuteness of Dave’s tiny ass, then he’s okay with it in this moment. He gets _properly_ acquainted with it, massaging it with his hands and stroking over every inch of him. The lacy fabric is super fucking effective on him. He pulls it down just past Dave’s cheeks before teasing over his hole, remembering his purpose here. 

He sits up straight so he can lube his fingers up and slowly presses one inside him. Dave groans and shifts slightly, lifting his hips up as if Karkat needs it to get at him. Karkat has suspected that Dave might be some flavour of queer before, if only because he’s so comfortable with his insanity, but he’s still a bit surprised and a _lot_ turned on that Dave’s so obviously into this. 

He works his way up to two fingers, slowly rotating them so he can press down and in the direction of Dave’s prostate, not interrupting his slow pumping and stretching to hit it with precision, but making it easier for that to happen. As he inserts his third finger, the sounds of kissing is replaced with heavy breathing as Dave loses his ability to focus on three things at once. His hips are moving in a very small grind, encouraging Karkat’s fingers deeper and faster. 

‘Feeling ready?’ Karkat asks.

‘Oh-my-god yes,’ Dave pants.

Karkat pulls out and Dave groans. He runs a finger teasingly around his rim and Dave’s head drops onto the mattress. It’s hard to stop when it’s this fun to get reactions out of him. 

Jane makes it happen pushing at Dave so she can get up. She throws Karkat a condom before strapping the harness to her hips, easing the toy into herself with prettily fluttering eyelashes. 

Dave shifts so he’s more in the centre of the bed and on his back. He pulls the panties all the way off, and Karkat honestly understands what Jane was saying about it being a waste. His dick straining against the pretty fabric is _gorgeous._ Karkat joins him a couple of seconds later and leans on one forearm so he can guide his dick to his hole. He pauses before pushing in.

‘If you ask me if I’m sure, I’m gonna actually fuck myself on you,’ Dave says. ‘Sorry dude, I’d like you to be involved but I literally cannot wait. Waiting is my enemy right now, we’re glaring at each other across the office and making scathing remarks on the other’s outfit choices.’

‘Stop saying “dude”,’ Jane sighs. ‘It’s linguistically ridiculous.’

‘That’s Dave,’ Karkat says, smiling wryly at his idiot of a boss. ‘How much longer did that take than, “you okay?” and “yes”?’

‘You might have a point but seriously please stop with the talking and start with the fucking; I’m not actually confident I can get myself onto you without your help from this angle.’

Karkat rolls his eyes and finally pushes into Dave, who presses his fist to his mouth to ineffectively stifle a moan. Karkat stills, both to adjust and to wait for Jane, and straightens one disturbed side of Dave’s shades. Dave smiles gently up at him. If they didn’t have company, Karkat would try his luck at taking them off, but he doesn’t mind them anyway. They’re practically part of Dave in his mind now. 

Jane starts to press the slim, slick toy into Karkat. It’s small enough that he’s comfortable without prep, but he still closes his eyes as he becomes almost overwhelmed by the amount of feeling. He feels Dave stroke down his face and opens his eyes a second later.

‘You’re _really_ hot, dude,’ Dave whispers.

Karkat breathes out an approximation of a laugh at his disobedience and, to avoid having to make some kind of response, he starts to pull back. Jane moves with him, keeping her strap as close to flush with him as she can. She stills when he starts to thrust back into Dave, letting Karkat be responsible for all the movement except when she presses slightly forward at the peak of his movements to get as deep in him as possible. 

The feeling of alternating between the two very intense feelings spurs Karkat into an almost frantic pace, which has Dave grabbing at Karkat’s bicep with one hand and reaching down to touch his cock with the other, head tipping back into the mattress. His throat is beautifully tempting, and Karkat mouths roughly at it. 

He starts to feel the back of Jane’s fingers at the base of the toy, her moans getting louder as each thrust of Karkat’s moves it inside of her. In the end, it’s Dave who comes first, his orgasm coming in messy spurts as Karkat pushes himself even faster, wanting to join him before Dave gets too oversensitive. He stares at Dave’s face, completely open and vulnerable in his pleasure as he tips over the edge, burying himself deep as he shudders through it. 

Jane pulls out of Karkat and drops onto her back beside them. Karkat and Dave both watch as she rocks the toy into herself, two fingers rubbing at her clit. She makes a breathless, high-pitched noise as her hands still and her legs lift a bit. 

‘Hot,’ Dave remarks.

Karkat eases out of him and lies on his other side. He rests a hand on Dave’s stomach and Dave covers it with one of his own, like he’s holding his touch there. It makes Karkat smile to himself. He doesn’t have as much control over his expressions like this. Which, actually, makes this a good opportunity.

‘What’s your game here, Crocker?’ Karkat asks. ‘You can’t honestly think that a threesome will make Dave feel obliged to make a movie for you.’

‘No,’ she sighs. ‘The pitch was very nearly rejected, but I pointed out the low risk and potential for high yield in a short timeframe.’

‘What does _that_ mean?’ Dave asks.

‘It means that I need a reason to leave the house, and this was a passable excuse!’ Jane laughs lightly, but Karkat frowns. Does she need help? ‘I’d appreciate it if you would occasionally let me call or get up to the office, even if you won’t meet me,’ she adds. ‘To justify it.’

‘Do you need help?’ Dave asks quietly. ‘I could find you someplace safe to go.’

‘A Strider version of witness protection would likely be more restrictive than what I have now!’ Jane says. ‘And besides, I like my job. I’m allowed quite a bit of freedom, really, I just need to request it beforehand.’

Karkat and Dave look at each other, each thinking that it doesn’t really sound like freedom. But, Karkat reminds himself, he doesn’t need to save the woman who he’s still thinking of as the enemy. Not _now,_ anyway.

‘Shall we go out for dinner?’ she asks. ‘That would help me tremendously, and of course it would be my treat.’

Karkat sighs heavily. He can’t see how it would hurt, but he can’t shake the feeling that she’s playing them. That all of this is a game and she’s finally got the meeting he kept refusing. He doesn’t expect her to bring up business tonight, but it will make it easier to get the next meeting. Where she’ll probably pretend she _has_ to make the pitch. 

Dave is thinking similar things. He doesn’t know whether Jane wants him on their side or simply to stop campaigning against them, not that a single person has picked up on his anti-alien, anti-Crocker, anti-facism messages. That’s the confusing part. If he was forced to work for her, no one would even notice. Rose keeps telling him that he could stand to make his movies watchable, but he just can’t be any way other than himself. 

‘I’mma take first shower,’ Dave says, sitting up. ‘I’m quick. Then we’ll do dinner and I’m gonna eat lobster so messily that you won’t ever be able to look me in the eye again.’

Karkat laughs as Dave does a lazy gesture like he’s tipping a hat and leaves. 

‘What’s the policy on inter-studio dating?’ Jane asks Karkat as the sound of the shower starts up. Karkat turns his head to stare intently at her. ‘I just ask because my company has rather strict rules on that. Especially in regards to people with direct authority over another.’

‘I don’t know,’ Karkat lies.

‘Well, I suppose this isn’t really dating,’ Jane says. ‘It’s probably fine, isn’t it.’

No, it isn’t really dating. But he wants it to be. There’s her move. She isn’t even bothering to hide her self-satisfied smile, her face cushioned on her elbow so her glasses don’t dig into the mattress. 

‘It’s probably fine,’ Karkat repeats hollowly.

He’s going to have to choose between working for Dave, protecting him against Crocker corp. like no one else would do, or not as faithfully and without question, anyway, or finding out if Dave would give this a go, just the two of them. He needs to stop underestimating this woman.


End file.
